


This Magic Moment

by phdmama



Series: The One Who Holds My Heart [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1000 feelings for which there are no names, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, The moment that changes everything, Timestamp, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/pseuds/phdmama
Summary: This is a timestamp from the same universe asWherever I Go (You Go With Me).Flashback to December 2002 - the moment that changes everything.





	This Magic Moment

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt).
> 
> This fic was inspired by number 373: “The thrill of anticipation before spilling a secret.”
> 
> This is a work of fiction, meant only to entertain. Please do not break the 4th wall or post this fic anywhere else! As always, the words are mine, as are the errors.
> 
> Huge thank you to [Ange](http://flamboyantommo.tumblr.com/) for the editing and to [ letsjustsee](http://letsjustsee.tumblr.com/)for the graphic!!

**December 2002**

Harry hangs up the phone in a daze, and flops down onto the couch. He looks around their apartment, the second floor of an old rambling house that had been subdivided years ago, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. Although in reality, nothing has changed yet, suddenly, everything, _everything_ is different. It is as if some invisible fault line in his life has let go, shifting everything around it just enough to make it all almost unrecognizable.

He picks up the phone again and starts to dial Louis’ number and then pauses, thinking. Louis is in class right now. They hadn’t expected this call for a few more days, and suddenly, Harry wants to do this right, wants to make sure that the way he tells Louis the news will be as special as the news itself.

He glances at the clock and freezes; it’s 4:15 in the afternoon. It’s his night to cook dinner, as he is done teaching for the day at 2:15, and Louis has a class until 6:15, so he usually isn’t even home until 7:00 or so. He’d been planning something casual, maybe leftovers or even just sandwiches, but now. Now he has a meal to create. This is important, and he needs to do this right.

Determined, he leaps from the couch, pats himself to make sure he has his phone and wallet, and moves to the door, snagging his keys from the hook as he goes. As he thunders down the stairs, he starts running over menus in his mind, trying to think of what he might have time to make.

As he roams the aisles of the City Market, he decides to go with a simple meal, his world-famous (well, it’s famous with Louis who _is_ his world, so yeah, world-famous) risotto. He spends time picking out the perfect toppings. He decides to caramelize onions, and saute mushrooms even though Louis will pretend to hate them and then tell some terrible dad joke about fungi. He decides to add in some steak tips for protein, and to grill asparagus as well. He spends far too long lingering over wines and finally chooses a bottle of the 7 Deadly Zins Old Vine Zinfandel. At $16 a bottle, it’s a bit pricier than they usually go with, but this is a special occasion, and in any case, the name makes Harry snicker to himself when he sees the bottle.

As he is checking out, the cashier smiles politely and says, “How are you tonight, sir?”

Harry beams, “I’m..yeah. I’m good, great.” The secret he holds is fizzing just on the tip of his tongue, and he can feel it longing to bubble over and out into the world, but somehow he manages to swallow it down. It doesn’t feel right, is the thing, sharing this with anyone until Louis knows, too. Until they can hold this together, cradled between them. It won’t feel _real_ until Louis knows, too.

Harry arrives back to the apartment and frantically begins cooking. The risotto isn’t that difficult to make, but it is time-consuming. Luckily, he’s made it often enough that he can function almost entirely on autopilot, knowing when to turn down the heat, when to get the onions cooking, when to start prepping the steak. At 6:45, he opens the wine, uncertain if you need to let it breathe, but figuring that it can’t hurt it. In fact, he reasons, pouring himself a glass and sipping, he can let it breathe just as easily in a glass as in the bottle. He sips again, rolling the wine around on his tongue the way he’d been taught in that class he and Louis had taken a few years ago, damned if he can taste any of the flavors the advertisement had promised.

He lets his mind wander over the past seven years, over all the firsts and milestones that he and Louis have experienced together. Their first kiss, their graduation, their wedding five years ago. He knows how lucky he is, Harry thinks, to have found his soulmate so young. He remembers everything Louis had said to him when they’d gotten engaged, about how excited he was to experience all of this crazy, wonderful life together with his best friend at his side. And here they are, Harry thinks, sipping again, taking the next step together. He knows there will be time for fear and worry, but for right now, at least for tonight, there isn’t room inside him for anything but joy.

He sets the table, carefully laying out the placemats they’d received from Niall as a wedding gift. He puts out their simple stainless steel flatware, their cheerful red and white dinnerware with its mix of polka dots and stripes. He places the wine on the table, hauls out the water glasses, and curses himself for forgetting flowers, knowing how much Louis loves these gestures. He thinks about lighting candles and then, hearing the turn of the doorknob as Louis comes in through the back, shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t want to give away too much too soon, and candles might be overdoing it.

“Harry, baby.” Louis enters the kitchen from the cold December evening in a rush of cold air, his eyes bright and his cheeks rosy from the chill. “God, it smells amazing in here. Are you  making...” he pauses and sniffs deeply, and grins, “Fuck, are you making risotto? You haven’t made that in ages! What’s the occasion?”

Harry takes a deep breath, steeling himself to keep from bursting out with it right then and there. “No occasion,” he says, marveling at the way his voice sounds exactly the same, because how can that be? He’s different, he thinks, from who he’d been just that afternoon, his relationship to the world suddenly and fundamentally altered. “Just got the urge, wanted to make us something good, and I know you love the leftovers.”

He turns, and gives Louis a hug and quick kiss. “Yikes, you’re freezing.”

“Yeah,” Louis heads deeper into the apartment, “I think the temperature is supposed to drop a ton tonight; it’s going to be cold.”

Even without being able to see him, Harry knows, based on years of experience, that Louis is leaving a trail of possessions from the kitchen doorway through the living room and into their bedroom. Shoes, bag, jacket will all be left in his wake, and then, when he hits the bedroom, socks, shirt and jeans will all fall behind him. Louis’ top priority upon entering the house is pretty much always to get as comfortable as possible, as quickly as possible, housekeeping be damned.

Without moving from the stove where he is carefully stirring the risotto, Harry yells, “Pick up your shit, Lou.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Louis yells back, his voice muffled, and Harry can just picture him pulling on the bright pink hoodie that is currently his favorite lounge wear.

“I notice you’re not denying that you’ve left your things all over the house, are you?” Harry calls back, tasting the risotto. Deciding it needs a couple more minutes, he pulls the steak from under the broiler and sets it on the counter to cool. He begins carrying the dishes with all the toppings to the table and comes close to dropping everything as he trips over Louis’ sneaker.

“Damn it, Lou, pick up your fucking shit.” Annoyed, he kicks the shoes out of the way as Louis appears in the bedroom door way, still pink-cheeked but looking more comfortable as he made his way back towards Harry.

“Sorry, baby,” he says apologetically.

Harry sighs, it’s hard to maintain his irritation with Louis looking so soft and rumpled in his sweats. “I just nearly dumped all this stuff, and then you would have been so sad,” he says firmly, knowing that this is a battle he is never going to win. It doesn’t mean he’s not going to go down fighting, just that he is already fully aware of the outcome.

Louis nods solemnly, and picks up one of his shoes, ignoring the rest of his things, which are lying, as predicted, in a trail down the hall. “I’ll just, err…” he tosses it haphazardly past Harry down the hall towards the front door.

“Anyway,” Harry hands the serving bowls to Louis, who automatically accepts them without comment, taking them over to the small dining table and setting them down.

“Table looks nice,” Louis comments, running a finger along the placemat closest to him. “God, class was so boring tonight.”

“Yeah?” Harry heads back into the kitchen to grab the rest of the food, and all of a sudden, the butterflies are back, fluttering deep in his belly as he picks up the large pottery bowl they’d found at that music festival they’d gone to right after they’d gotten married. They are threatening to burst right through his abdominal wall as he rummages in the drawer for the big serving spoon and he takes a deep breath, wondering how long he will be able to keep quiet.

They sit down, and for a several moments, the silence between them is broken only by the sounds of silverware clinking against dishes as they, with an ease born of years together, serve each other plates piled high with the sticky risotto, fragrant veggies, and the rare steak Harry had grilled. Harry fills Louis’ wine glass and tops off his own, and they begin to eat.

Conversation ranges from the mundane of household issues to Louis’ irritation with his Foundations of Information Systems professor to Harry’s story about one of his students dozing off during his lecture and falling out of his chair with a spectacular crash.

As they wind up their dinner, Harry feels his heart start to race and his palms begin to sweat. He knows that it’s time, he has to tell Louis the words that are going to change their lives. He feels a sudden stab of fear, wondering if, even though this is what they’ve wanted, what they’ve been working for, if this will change everything. Of course it will. How can it not? He takes a deep breath and then he begins.

“Gina called.”

The effect of these two words on Louis is instantaneous. His head whips up and his gaze narrows until Harry feels it like a drill piercing through him.

“And?” His voice is calm, but his fingers have tightened on his wine goblet, his knuckles pressing white against the glass.

Suddenly, Harry’s throat closes, choking off his words as his eyes fill with tears. Overwhelmed, he presses a hand to his lips and Louis’ face falls. He sets his glass down quickly and moves to Harry’s side. He pulls Harry to standing and wraps his arms around him, burying his face in Harry’s shoulder, clinging to him as Harry holds on tightly to him in return.

“Aww, babe,” Louis says softly. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll try again. We knew it might take some time. It’s okay.”

Harry feels his face break into a wide grin even as his eyes overflow, tears slowly making their way down his cheeks as he pulls back a bit and says, “No, babe. Lou. _Baby._ ” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Baby, it was positive.”

Louis freezes and then whispers, “What?”

“She took the test today, baby, and she said it was so clear, so dark. It was positive. She’s pregnant, Louis. We’re going to have a baby.” His voice is shaking, the words ringing between them.

Louis’ hands move involuntarily to his mouth, his eyes wide as he stares at Harry. “It was. It was positive?” His voice is hushed and reverent, as if the words he’s speaking are holy, sacred. “Wait, are you telling me right now that we’re having a baby?”

Harry nods vigorously, his cheeks aching with the size of the smile he can’t contain, “We’re having a baby, Lou.”

Louis looks as overwhelmed as Harry feels, like he doesn’t know what to do with his body as he stares at Harry and then he smiles a smile so pure and bright that Harry almost has to shield his eyes, it’s that’s powerful.

Then Louis frowns, “Wait just a fucking minute, when did Gina call?”

“Um,” Harry says sheepishly, “This afternoon?”

“You’ve known since this afternoon, and you didn’t fucking call me immediately?” Harry is worried that Louis is actually upset until he continues, “I can’t even believe it, you can’t keep a fucking secret to save your life, baby, and this? You didn’t give it away at all.” His voice is grudgingly impressed and Harry snorts.

“I can, too,” he insists. “I can keep a secret.”

“Harry,” Louis sighs. “How many examples do you need? The time you were going to tell me you loved me over a nice romantic dinner and then you blurted it out as soon as I opened my dorm room door. Or when you got into grad school, you ran three and a half miles to that coffee room where I was working and you shoved your way up to the head of the line, waving your phone with the email, remember? You accidentally bashed that guy in the face and had to buy him coffee and a donut. Or,” Harry stops the flow of words the only way he knows, with his mouth pressed to Louis’, who immediately sinks into the kiss, wrapping himself around Harry as he rises to his tiptoes.

They kiss for a moment, and Harry tries to pour everything he’s thinking and feeling into the kiss. Every ounce of love he feels for Louis, every joyful memory of the past, and every hope and dream he has for the future, all summed up in Gina’s call that afternoon, her voice breathless as she’d cried out, “I couldn’t wait, Harry, I peed on the stick and it’s two lines, darling, two lines!”

They pull apart, both breathing hard and then Louis says “Oh Harry, can you believe it? We’re having a baby. We need to call Gina right now.”

Harry just nods, and holds on tight, pulling Louis in close. “Yeah, in a minute,” he murmurs finally, “We’ll call her in a minute.” He feels the warmth of Louis’ body and pictures it, wondering what it will be like. He’s not totally ignorant to the ways of babies, he knows they’ve got challenges and exhaustion coming, but this, this moment, it’s so sweet, that he wants to hold on to it for just a little bit longer.

“Of course,” Louis says softly, as they stand wrapped around each other, and in this brief interlude of pure hope and anticipation, Harry knows with total certainty, that no matter what, he can do anything, handle anything. As long as he has Louis with him, and as he pulls back to look at his husband, he can see that understanding mirrored on Louis’ face.

They pause for one more moment, just looking at each other and then Harry takes a long, slow breath. “Okay,” he says, “Let’s call Gina. Together?”

Louis nods and gives Harry one last squeeze. “Together, baby. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come say hi on Tumblr! If you enjoyed this, the rest of my writing on AO3 can be found here!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and if you feel so inspired, _please_ to leave a kudos or a comment, they all make my day brighter!
> 
> Even better, if you enjoyed this, please reblog the Tumblr post found [here!](https://phd-mama.tumblr.com/post/160228674873/this-magic-moment) and share the love! THANK YOU!


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